


painkiller

by kiiller_koii



Category: Escape the Night (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Carnival, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, brain not working rn, haha suffering, ugh just dumb gays, uhh i might edit the tags later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24937669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiiller_koii/pseuds/kiiller_koii
Summary: matthew is hurting and it’s manny’s fault.{or; a manpat hanahaki disease au}
Relationships: The Detective | Matthew Patrick/The Record Producer | Manny MUA
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	painkiller

It started with one.

One stray petal, a gentle dark green—almost turquoise, resting lightly on his pillow after a particularly peculiar dream about a specific friend of his. 

Matthew tried to pay it no mind. He tried to push all theories of its origins from his head, because he knew they’d only stress him out. He also knew there was a  logical explanation, there had to be, anyway. Overanalyzing was, of course, Matt’s best talent. Of course he was bound to think too hard, to psych himself out and ruin his own day. He brushed it out of his thoughts; he moved on.

The rest of his week was at the least uncomfortable. 

As the days passed, his chest grew tighter and a strange cough plagued him that got worse as time went by. Matt often found these same petals in its wake, although he managed to convince himself he was imagining things, or that the strange phenomenon was simply... normal, somehow. The thing that threw him off was the blood that would stain his chin after every other strangled wheeze.

The detective didn’t often get sick—he was left to wonder who’d passed this ailment along to him. Probably someone on his team who’d forgotten to wipe down supplies at the station, or one of his friends that didn’t often exude caution like Roi.

Rosanna visited the station one particular night, just a few minutes before his shift was to end. He coughed into the crook of his elbow as he stood up from his chair in a happy greeting to his friend, the girl in question moving to lean over the desk.

“Hey, Ro! What brings you here?”

“Matt! Well, me and Safiya were just wondering if you wanted to come hang out tonight!” She giggled, a bubbly laughter that lit up the darkened office like sunshine. “You know, head over to Fat Man Slim’s, get a little drink, the usual!”

Matthew chuckled, clearing his irritated throat. “Ah, gosh... I’d love to, but I promised Manny that I’d go visit the carnival with him tonight. Nikita was busy, so I’m proud to say I’m his second choice.” The detective placed his hands on his hips, smirking in mock-pride (although he admittedly  was bitter about it) before the pair both shared a hearty laugh.

Ro grinned fondly at him, now standing up straight. “That’s okay! ‘Nother time, then! You-“ She paused, poking Matt in the stomach (which elicited a high-pitched giggle and a bat of his hand), “-go have fun!”

“Thanks, Ro,” He sighed gently, smiling. “We will! Enjoy your night with Saf. See you soon, then, okay?”

Rosanna didn’t have enough time to respond before Matthew erupted into another fit of coughs, hunching over himself and turning to face the side of his desk opposite her. The girl in question waited, patient, likely thinking nothing of it. 

Matt soon recovered, regaining his breath and slowly wiping his sleeve over his mouth. “S-Sorry.”

Ro hesitated before letting out a nervous and airy chuckle, tucking strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s okay. Are you... alright?” 

“I, uh, heh...” Matt smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry, just caught a bug or something. Maybe it’s going around.” He shrugged, disregarding the issue entirely. He wasn’t really one to ask for help or make a spectacle to others about his issues. Besides—he was fine, wasn’t he?

The jet setter tilted her head slightly to the side. “...If you say so! Well, if—“ Rosanna cut herself off, which threw Matt for a loop. “What’s this?”

The short girl bent downwards, prompting Matthew’s eyes to follow to her. On the floor rested two soft-looking green petals, one of which Rosanna took gingerly into her hand and brought upwards to present to Matt. 

The detective hesitated to answer, before responding with a tentative laugh and a shake of his head. “Oh... not sure. Must’ve blown in from outside. Don’t worry—I’ll clean up before I head out.” He chuckled. 

Hesitantly, Ro accepted this and let the petal fall from her hand. Matthew watched as it floated silently to the ground, moving in an indescribable pattern through the air. It was almost a peaceful moment. Almost.

“Okay then... I’ll get out of your hair now!”

Matt smiled, taking in a deep breath to ground himself before moving to embrace her. “In any case, thanks for dropping by.”

Ro beamed at him before pulling away, brushing off the front of his orange coat. “I’ll see you later!”

Once Matthew waved her off and watched her small car drive out of the parking lot through the window, he let out a breath he hadn’t meant to hold.

He sighed, shaking his head as he curled a fist and jammed it against his chest. His entire upper body felt  clogged by something, the  growing discomfort giving him some trepidation about the carnival tonight. Ah... but he couldn’t just cancel on Manny. The guy was always so busy with clients and his productions, Matthew wanted to accompany him on his night off. Even if he was Manny’s second choice (he wasn’t getting over that any time soon). Plus, if he was being honest, he really did want to hang out with the record producer. He really, really wanted—

Something rose in Matt’s throat at the thought, and he found himself rushing to kneel and bend over the trash can. He wretched, coughing, forcing a mass out of his throat. A clump of five—maybe six more petals fell out of his mouth with a  splat —that being the clot of blood that came with it. He cringed, quickly standing up and walking away from the scene. 

After that, he made it a point to get out of the station as soon as possible. He packed his things and took one last phone call, he took out the trash (which smelled uncomfortably like iron), cleaned his desk, and was soon speed-walking out the door. Before he left, he managed to gather a white cloth, expecting that he might need it.

By the time he pulled up to the overly bright carnival, his car reeked of copper and flowers. 

He slowly stepped out of the vehicle and locked it behind him, stuffing his keys into the pocket of his pants. He dabbed around his mouth with his hankie before it, too, was shoved into a pocket. Out of sight, out of mind. 

Speaking of things that were  in sight, Matthew spotted a familiar green jumpsuit (tinted orange from his glasses), just by the entrance. Usually Matt himself was the early one. 

He coughed before speeding into a half-assed jog, only stopping his pace to clear whatever had caught in his throat when Manny smiled at him.

“Took you long enough!” The record producer sassed, placing a hand on his hip and shifting his wait. Despite the comment, he seemed genuinely happy to see Matt.

Matthew chuckled in turn, shaking his head and tracing his fingers through chestnut locks as he stopped next to the taller man. “I know—sorry, sorry. Worked kinda late, I guess. I’m here now, though!”

Manny clicked his tongue, “Uh-huh,” He rolled his eyes, nudging Matthew’s shoulder. “I knew you didn’t have it in you to pussy out on me, bitch.” 

Matt’s skin ignited at the simple press of his ringed hand against his arm, the touch-starved man leaning into it desperately. Manny had this odd ability to take the detective’s breath away—quite literally, in fact, his throat clogged and no air passed through for a good couple of seconds. He attempted not to let it show.

After he regained his composure, Matthew let out a little 'oh!' before quickly digging into the inner pocket of his coat. “Check this out,” He prefaced, before tugging out a handful of faux-golden coins.

Manny stared at him for a moment before scoffing and rolling his eyes gently. “Yeah, of course you’re the type of guy to save your tokens.” 

Matt was, in fact, adamant on saving up on coins for the arcade, and he was proud of that fact.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m a very strong proponent of recycling.”

The two men laughed together for a moment before finally entering the carnival, only after Manny made a strong proclamation that he would beat the detective at pinball.

The evening breeze jostled Matt’s lightly gelled hair as the two jogged through the carnival, both of them knowing the arcade’s location by heart. Though, one could say that jogging was an overstatement for Matthew, as his lungs were too sore to move that fast. Lucky for him he wasn’t questioned by the record producer—considering his competitive nature matched Matt’s, he halted proudly at the arcade’s door with a smirk, having won their unsaid race.

“I won.” Manny stated with a upturned curl of his lip. He tossed his non-existent weave before moving to hold the door for his friend.

Matt made sure to shoulder-check him on his way in. Naturally.

The arcade was bustling with life, blinking colored lights and the dinging sound effects of the machines. Some solo fair-goers stood occupying a few games, adding to the noise with the occasional pull of a joystick or push of a button.

Matt glanced to his side where Manny walked, admiring the record producer as he, too, took in the atmosphere. Sometimes Matt tended to forget how... pretty he was.

He snapped out of it quickly, just as the pair stepped towards the pinball machine near the back of the small building. It was almost as if it was waiting all for them.

“Alright, detective, let’s see what you’ve got.” Manny smirked at him, patting the small of his back to push him forward (and might have winked at Matt, otherwise he was just hallucinating). 

“Oh, you’re goin’ down, buddy!” He exclaimed, voice just a bit hoarse. He came to stand over the game machine, shoving a few tokens into the slot before narrowing his eyes. 

After a few moments, Manny piped up. “Jesus, what’s taking you so long?” He whined, moving to sit on the lounge couch right next to the game.

“Trying to remember my strategy. It- it’s interesting, when it comes to pinball-“

“Ugh, cut the nerd talk.” Manny interrupted, teasing. “I don’t need to know your 'perfect calculations' like last time I tried to play a game with you.”

It was true—Matt had gone on a bit of a tangent when their group had tried to play Monopoly that one time.

“Yeah, well, I-“ Matt was cut off into a coughing spell when he looked at Manny, who had grinned and stuck his tongue out. Point being, it was cute.

He turned his head to the side, trying to mask his pained rasps underneath a gentle laugh. Matthew managed to swallow back one of those damned petals at the expense of  more choking, at which he forced himself to spit out a few drops of blood. 

“Uh... Matt? Are you good...?”

Hearing Manny’s voice, the detective sprung to attention, ' casually ' blocking the pinball machine with his body. He moved his arm backwards in an attempt to wipe off the spot of his slightly florally-scented blood, smiling sheepishly at the record producer.

“Ee-yup, I’m perfect. I’ve had a little tickle in my throat for a little while, but I’m sure it’s nothing.”

There was nothing Matthew wanted  less than for Manny to worry about him. For anyone to worry about him, in fact. He hated sitting down and talking about his problems, or whatever, he’d rather move along and not dwell on any of his stupid issues.

Manny gave him his signature suspicious side-eye, crossing one leg over the other as he looked Matt up and down. “Mhm. Right, whatever you say. Carry on then, pinball wizard.”

Matt took a moment to regain his breath, inwardly groaning before letting out a chuckle. “I appreciate the reference.”

Finally, Matthew used his 'master pinball strategy' for his turn—which apparently wasn’t exactly a  master plan, because while he did half-decent, his play through was not the best. He cursed himself with a  dammit  through his teeth, moving away from the machine’s front for Manny to take over. 

Manny brushed past him, Matt himself sitting down where the producer had been before. “Alright, maybe I’m a little rusty,” He began, draping his arm over the backing of the couch. “But hey, for my first time in a year, I think—“

“Oh, what the hell? What is  this ?” Matt was interrupted for perhaps the hundredth time tonight as Manny flailed his arms towards something on the machine, at which the detective raised an eyebrow. 

“Geez, what’s wrong?” Matt stood up with a sigh (he’d just gotten comfortable), stepping towards Manny. He was about to make a comment about Manny being a drama queen like he usually would, but upon seeing what the record producer was addressing, he paused.

Manny ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. He tapped a few times on the glass underneath what he was addressing; a smudged reddish stain midway on the machine.

“Bitch, that’s fucking disgusting. Who the hell cleans these places? I’m just gonna... skip my turn.”

Matthew chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ha... yeah. Does that mean I win by default?”

He wasn’t denying that this was, indeed, disgusting, but when it was directly Matt’s fault... that made it slightly awkward.

Manny snorted, elbowing him. “God, I can see where  your priorities lay,” He rolled his eyes playfully, before sidestepping away from the pinball machine. “Let’s get out of this nasty ass arcade.”

“Mhm- right. Right, yes, let’s go.”

The two men made their way out of the arcade—which was a good thing, anyway, Matt found it pretty stuffy in there. 

He took a strained breath of the cool air as they exited, Matt’s hands placed gently in his pockets. He always loved the rickety little fair, and walking through it always relaxed him, despite everything.

“Hey, Matt, do y—“ Manny didn’t have time to finish whatever statement he was to make, as some woman was trouncing over to them with a clown-like grin. Of course, Matt would have asked him to elaborate, had it not been for the  appalled look on Manny’s face.

He opened his mouth to ask why he was making said face, but he answered his own question when his eyes met the lady that approached them, who currently had a spider crawling out of her mouth.

“Oh my  god !” Matthew’s first instinct was to hide behind Manny, which he did, but not after drawing in a startled gasp. 

And said gasp seemed to be too much for his poor, aching lungs. He wretched, now pushing himself away from the other man. His hand grasped at his throat, pulling his collar away from his neck, squeezing his trachea, anything to get whatever was caught in there  out . Manny turned to face him, concerned. He said something, but Matthew’s ears were ringing too loudly for him to have heard. The producer reached out, but Matt was already scampering off towards the arcade.

He rushed as fast as his spindly legs could take him into the bathroom of the arcade, where he shut himself into a stall and leaned over the toilet. And there he stayed, coughing, rasping, until finally the bloody pieces of a few torn up petals made their way out of him. He remained there for a while, taking deep breaths and staring at the mess he’d made. 

Though, the detective did note that the carnage hadn’t been as bad as it was when he would think of Manny. That was an interesting detail he came across.

He used a square of thin toilet paper to wipe his bloodied mouth, before standing up and exiting the stall. He made sure to stomp on one of the petals that hadn’t made it into the bowl on his way out.

When Matt finally trudged out of the bathroom walk-of-shame style, Manny was not where he left him. Which wasn’t surprising, why should he just stay put while Matthew was gone? Part of him just immediately assumed that Manny had ditched him. Maybe the producer had simply walked away, out of the carnival. The detective wouldn’t blame him. He’d leave himself, too. Luckily it only took a quick scan of his surroundings for him to spot his friend, and through a breath of relief he cleared his throat.

He blinked a few times before trudging towards where Manny stood, at a game stand throwing balls at little clown pins. Matthew couldn’t stifle a gentle chuckle at the sight, hiccuping as he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.

Manny jumped a bit, halting mid-throw. Luckily, he saved the shot. “Jesus Christ. You scared me!” The record produced laughed, exasperated. 

“Sorry!” Matt giggled, shifting his weight to one side. He watched as Manny focused in on the game, passing the ball he was holding between his hands. “What are you...?”

Matthew trailed off as Manny drew his arm back and chucked the ball forwards. Bullseye. The last set of clowns fell backwards, sending Manny into a cheer. Matt laughed, clapping along. 

The carny came forward with a smile, holding a bright pink horse plushie in his hands. “Her name is Blanche.” He informed, passing her onto Manny.

“Heh,” Manny beamed proudly, stepping to the side of the tent with Matt.

“Hey Blanche!” Matthew greeted, waving gleefully at the stuffed animal in Manny’s arms. “What are you—“

Suddenly, the horse was being pushed onto Matthew.

“What—?”

“I won it for you, dummy!” Manny grinned, laughing softly. His eyes brightened sweetly, and Matt practically swooned (but that was something he would deny).

After coughing into his jacket, Matthew tucked Blanche under his arm and smiled brightly back at the raven-haired male. “Really—? Pff- Manny, you sap.” He ran a hand through his hair, nudging the taller with his shoulder. “Thanks.”

Manny shrugged, smirking. “Any time, babe.”

Matthew’s eyes watered, tasting blood. Before anything could fully rise, he spoke again. “Where to next, then? Maybe the funhouse?”

“No. Anywhere but the funhouse. Not after... you know, the accident with Safiya.” Manny grimaced, wincing.

Matt shuddered, recalling the event. “Yeah... right. Let’s not do that.” He laughed nervously. Now uncomfortable, he brushed past the topic.

Thankfully, Manny saved it. “Oh! I know.” He grinned, clicking his tongue before grasping Matthew’s hand in his. Startled, Matt stammered, but was quickly being pulled along behind the ebony man.

All the while, the poor detective was coughing away from Manny, allowing himself to be dragged along. Still, he found himself smiling. It felt like they were teenagers again, running around Everlock like they used to when they were young. But before he could dwell on the thought any further, Manny halted. Matthew practically rammed into the producer’s back, the bridge of his glasses slamming his nose.

“Geez..” He backed up, adjusting aforementioned sunglasses awkwardly, before looking up.

Ah, the ferris wheel. He should’ve known.

Matt laughed. “Oh, this is more my speed.”

“I know it is, nerd. That’s why I brought you here.”

The brunette stuck his tongue out at Manny in retaliation to the sarcastic tone.

After they were done play-fighting like toddlers, they stepped up into their seat, allowing the worker to strap them in. Matthew fit Blanche in next to him, scooting slightly closer to Manny in turn. Manny didn’t seem bothered by it, so Matt might’ve adjusted himself even  closer , again. Soon enough, the pair was rising upwards, flashing lights of the ferris wheel illuminating the ground that grew ever farther from their feet.

A comfortable silence settled between them for a moment. The breeze increased as they rose upwards and Matthew shivered, at which Manny shifted close so that their arms touched. Matt  gagged , which he hoped Manny didn’t notice, but he gently smiled in response.

Like any movie cliche Matt could think of, the ferris wheel slowed to a stop, with them on top.

“...It’s kinda nice up here, huh?” Manny asked gently, after a few moments passed. 

Matt didn’t have a reply. He turned his head simply to look at Manny, instead. The producer seemed to do a double take before making eye contact back with him, but he eventually did, his shoulders relaxing as their eyes met. Even without much light, Matthew could see the beautiful green of the other man’s eyes. He’d always loved those damn eyes. Timidly, the detective leaned forward, just slightly to come closer to Manny’s face. And Manny did the same.

For just a few seconds, their noses brushed together. Matt felt Manny’s minty breath against his lips. He just wanted to lean in... to push himself forward and...

And he was puking off the opposite side of the cart.

He felt Manny’s hand pat his back as he spluttered and wheezed, quickly grabbing his sunglasses before they fell. He hacked and he coughed, forcing blood and disgustingly damp petals out of his mouth.

When he felt like he was done, all he could do was pathetically lean over the side, staring downwards at what looked like a fully bloomed flower drifting down, down, down.

He didn’t know what was happening to him.

But he did know that whatever it was, it was Manny’s fault.

___________________

Two days later, Safiya had slipped him a note. She dropped by the station but was out just as soon as she came, leaving a small slip of paper in her wake. Matthew was skeptical, but he unfolded it and discovered two words written.

' Hanahaki Disease '.

His nose twitched, confused. Maybe word about his ailment had spread around his friend group... regardless, even though he trusted Saf’s judgement, he was tempted to brush it off. What the hell was a 'hanahaki', anyway?

But... he couldn’t deny that he wanted answers. He was the most curious guy he knew.

So, he took his leave early from work and started on his research.

Matthew sat at his computer for hours on end. Apparently this disease was very underground—only a small amount of cases popping up per year. It took an inane amount of browsing before he even found one website about the sickness, and his questions didn’t stop after that one website.

He devoted his entire day to research on the disease, and to his despair, the symptoms matched his own to a T. The only issue was that it was, in many cases, fatal.

Unrequited love. The entire premise of it was unrequited love. Flowers in his lungs, too, but mostly unrequited love. And Matthew knew immediately who was to blame.

“God dammit, Manny.” He swore, folding his hands and placing his head on his desk. 

So it was either tell Manny he was in love with him and get a similar response, or undergo a surgery to rid himself of the flowers and his adoration for the record producer.

Matt didn’t like giving up on things, not one bit. Especially not his feelings. He would feel horrible to take that surgery.

There was only one viable solution in Matt’s mind, then. He would tell Manny about his feelings. And  soon .

The next day was soon enough, apparently, as it was his day off. He and his friends had planned a day together. They’d all meet in the arcade lounge and have a nice time to relax and hang out. 

But Matthew wasn’t really  relaxed .

He sat on a chair near the back, next to Ro, simply fiddling with the zipper of his leather jacket. The cuffs of the sleeves were stained a darker brown from coughing into them, but matched with the shade of his jacket it was somewhat unsuspecting. 

“Matt?” Rosanna tilted her head to the side. “Are you okay?”

Silence for a few beats.

“I will be,” Matthew finally piped up, a bold statement. He stepped up from his seat, swallowing his nerves. “After I go do this.

“Do what? I—“

He didn’t give Ro the time of day, which was admittedly rude of him, but he could apologize later. This was just slightly more important. 

The detective spotted Nikita standing up from her place next to Manny on a couch, presumably exiting to go to the restroom. Matt made his move, sidling up to take her place.

“Oh, shit. Hey, Matt.” Manny greeter cooly. He adjusted his body so he was more facing the brunette, smiling casually.

Matthew froze up, staring his  crush  (he hated that word) straight in the face. He was really doing this, huh? He sincerely hoped it wouldn’t end in humiliation. Since... that would also lead to his potential death. Huh. That was a lot of pressure, nowthat he thought about it. 

Were those butterflies in his stomach, or had the flower in his lungs dropped all the way to his gut?

“Did’ja... uh, need something?” Manny cocker his head slightly, inviting Matt to speak. This was it.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to tell you.. uh, I wanted to tell you that...” He ran his hand through his hair once, twice, three times. He cursed his heart for pounding so loudly. 

His hesitation lasted far too long, before he finally finished his statement.

“That—that your fly is down?”

Oh god.

That wasn’t the line.

His nerves had gotten the best of him.

Quickly, he hopped to his feet and rushed away without a second look. What was the word he’d pondered earlier. Humiliation. That was what this was. He just couldn’t risk it—he didn’t want to be rejected, he wasn’t sure if he could handle it.

The last thing he heard as he rushed out the door of the lounge was Manny’s plain and simple: “Wait! This outfit even have a fly!”

In that moment, Matt practically threw his life away.

Over the next weeks, everything only got worse.

He was laid off from work because he was so weak. He couldn’t go ten minutes without a horrible episode of flowers and blood. He couldn’t spend time with his friends for fear that his illness would frighten them away. He was eventually admitted to the hospital.

He stayed in the medical ward for around a month. Every time the doctors saw his condition seemingly improve, it would take three steps backwards just the next day. Matthew didn’t mind living in his hospital bed. It wasn’t like he could move around much anyway, seeing as he could hardly breathe. Specialists would come in every once in a while, trying to convince him into the surgery. He never complied. Even if he was terrified, he didn’t want to just throw his feelings away like that.

His friends visited him quite often, which was a plus.

Rosanna most often. She was his ray of sunshine, even through her tears.

Safiya dropped by every once in a while. Lucky for him, she was a realist. She’d rub his shoulder and keep it frank with him.

Teala was a rarity, seeing as her spy work kept her quite occupied. She helped him crack a few jokes, and she told him all of her wild and raunchy stories. It was a dash of spice to his day.

But Manny’s visits were different.

It was all hushed voices and tender touches. Quiet laughs and gentle glances. It never felt pitying. Matt never felt sad. He felt like he was on cloud nine, and even if his condition escalated around the man, he felt like he could breathe again.

And in this, Manny was his painkiller.

He wished he could hate Manny. He wanted to be angry about this. But he couldn’t bring himself to that point. He loved him too much.

It was the producer who was with him today on a Sunday evening. The ebony-haired man was regaling to him the odd events of his day, how he’d taken a particularly strange client and had to call the police. He mentioned that he was sad he couldn’t have called Matthew onto the case like he used to.

The detective laughed at this, though he secretly wished it were him as well. He did miss working, after all.

“I can’t wait till you get out of here.” Manny commented rather suddenly, propping his head up on his hands. The producer sat in a soft leather chair next to Matt’s bedside table, staring fondly at the pale and sick man.

Matthew rolled his head so that he was looking upwards at the ceiling. “Ha. Me neither, but I can’t imagine how soon that’ll be.”

He was only being honest, but he felt the mood go down at his own statement.

The record producer soon sighed, and Matthew felt a ringed hand connect with his. “You’re gonna be alright, okay?”

Matt chuckled, “I never denied that. I just—“

“No, seriously. I promise. It’s all gonna turn out alright.” Manny smiled, and that was all Matt needed to convince him. All too soon, the taller man was standing up.

“Are you leaving?”

Manny laughed softly, sadly, gazing sweetly down at Matthew. “Sorry. I have some dumb business to finish up, or something. I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention to whatever that dude was saying.” He waved his hand, shrugging it off. 

Matt didn’t have anything to say, so he didn’t reply. He just watched as Manny reaches downwards, placing his hand tenderly on the brunette’s cheek.

“Goodnight. I’ll visit you tomorrow, gorgeous.”

Manny left on that note, and Matthew had to admit that it was a high one.

His heart fluttered, a pleasant difference from the 'fluttering' that his lungs would do whenever the flower growing in them would act up.

He expected to be thrown into another fit by Manny’s words, so he leaned over the side of his bed and took a breath.

But nothing happened.

So Matthew smiled.

He could  breathe . 

Perhaps this disease wasn’t a probable death sentence. Maybe he was starting to get better. Matthew watched his window as the sun began to set. He wasn’t in perfect condition, no. But he was beginning to think that he had a chance.

And with a final thought that maybe there was hope for him, he drifted off with a smile.

...

Detective Matthew Patrick died that night.

The nurses tried to get to him in time, but when they found him, his oxygen mask was blocked by a large green flower that sprouted out of the man’s mouth. It bloomed within the detective’s blood that had pooled on his face. One could only guess that he suffocated in his sleep.

There was no closure.

He had no comfort

No one with him as he died (unless you were to count Blanche, who sat at the foot of his bed).

It wasn’t some fairytale death of a hero. It was cold, it was choking, sad, and  hopeless .

And when Manny heard the news, he never recovered.

Never.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao gottem


End file.
